


Never To Be Told

by ladymidath



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-22
Updated: 2003-04-22
Packaged: 2018-11-20 10:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11333601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymidath/pseuds/ladymidath
Summary: Late night thoughts





	Never To Be Told

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Never To Be Told

### Never To Be Told

#### by Lady Midath

  


Disclaimer:I don't own them and all standard disclaimersapply, in other words, they are mine, all mine I tell you, bwahahahahahahaha 

Fandom:X Files 

Pairing:K/Sk 

Rating R 

Spoilers:For Tunguska, Terma 

Archive:If you want it, it yours 

Summary:Late night thoughts 

Note, this fic is for Bertina 
    
    
                                                      Never To Be Told
                                                       One for sorrow
                                                        Two for joy
                                                      Three for a girl
                                                        Four for a boy
                                                        Five for silver
                                                         Six for gold
                                                      Seven for a secret
                                                           Never to be told
    

Skinner 

It's late, but I can't sleep. I sit out on my balcony, the same one where not so long ago, a certain rodent had been handcuffed. 

Think warm thoughts, I had told him as I had turned and left him to freeze out there, the side of his face pressed against the railing. I had gone to bed that night satisfied that he was getting his just desserts. What goes around, comes around. My mother, god rest her had always been fond of saying that. And if any one had deserve it, that son of a bitch had. 

Think warm thoughts, and had they been warm? I know mine had been red hot that night. The same night that Mulder had brought him to my apartment, looking for a safe house for him. A safe house, that had been a laugh. How safe could Krycek have been with me? After everything he had done. The betrayals, the very fact that he had taken me in so completely with that sweet green agent act of his. If only I had been able to see past the cheap suits and gelled hair. Too late now, I muse as I watch the clouds scud across a soon to be winter sky. 

God how sick with rage had I been, looking into those incredible green eyes again. It had been so long since I had seen him, so long since I had heard his voice. I had no idea that seeing him again would have affected me this way. 

I glance down at my hands and I am surprised to see them shaking. Even the memory of that night is enough to make me tremble. 

Suddenly my mouth is dry and I am badly in need of a drink. J&B whiskey, my drink of choice for all those long lonely nights after losing Sharon. 

Sharon. My mind slowly drifted away again, following those grim night thoughts that always besets one at three o'clock on a dark cold morning. 

It was my fault that I had lost Sharon. I can admit that now. At first I had blamed her, her lack of understanding, her impatience with me, with my work. With our life together. The fact that she seemed to want to pry into every corner of my life, wanting to know everything. Now I know that it was me that had been in the wrong. It had been me that had locked her out, made her feel more like a roommate than a wife and partner. And in doing so, had lost her. 

Poor Sharon, I wished her well, wherever she was now. 

Suddenly my thoughts turn back to Krycek. His green eyes, hair as black as the night, as black as the battered old jacket that he always wore. I can feel my cock begin to harden just at the thought. Jesus, it's like Pavlov's dogs. Ring a bell and I began to saliva just like them. But it's not a bell that wrings a response from me. It's those slim hips and fuck you Jack attitude. The way he'd swagger into a room as if he owned it, all eyes automatically turning to him. The knack he had of staring straight at you...into you, as if your very soul was on display for him and him alone. 

Strangers in the night... I hear the old song carried on the cool early morning breeze. So there's someone else that can't sleep either. Nice to know I'm not the only one, though I doubt it's over some gorgeous assassin. Probably someone just home from the nightshift, listening to some old music to wind down and relax before hitting the sack for a good eight to ten before having to face another shift again. 

Strangers in the night, how appropriate. After all, isn't that what we were, Krycek and me? Strangers in the night. No, not strangers, we knew each other far to well to ever be strangers. Besides, that description was far too hokey for someone like Krycek.   
No, there was nothing that I could think of that I could even remotely compare with Alex Krycek. Nothing at all, how's that for a lack of imagination? 

Once again, my mind turns back to that night. The night that Mulder had brought Krycek to my apartment. 

I can feel the light sheen of sweat that slicks my face now. The breeze tickles against my skin, drying it. 

The song has changed now, it's something very old that I don't recognize, I like it though. I stand on the balcony listening, letting my mind wander. Better than dwelling on that night. 

That night... 

Krycek had not been his usual smart ass self. Too scared I imagine. He had stared at me, eyes wide with fear, and something else. I had gazed at him, my face grim. I owned that little rat bastard and owed him big, and what's more, he knew it. 

He had not been expecting that first punch, it had caught him completely by surprise. I had to admit, I had been gratified by the reaction. With a surprise grunt, Krycek had hit the ground. I had wasted no time. Grabbing him roughly by the collar, I had hauled him back up, growling a very effective threat in his ear while doing so. 

Mulder had said nothing, he had merely watched while I dragged Krycek out to the balcony and cuffed him to the railing. If he had any objections to my treatment of the rat bastard, he had kept them to himself. 

Had it been my fault that Krycek had gone with Mulder on that ill fated trip? Had it been my fault that they had been captured and imprisoned in that hellish gulag. Mulder had managed to escape whole. Lord I swear that man has more lives than a fucking cat. But I was pleased. I would have hated to see Mulder maimed at the hands of frightened ignorant peasants. 

But Krycek had not been so lucky. 

The memory of seeing him after he had returned from Russia. His face thinned and hardened from weeks, probably months of pain. The way he held himself, trying to get used to the uneven weight of the prosthetic limb. 

I had felt sick. How could anyone have mutilated something as beautiful as Alex Krycek? 

I remember how he had shown up here, his eyes mutely accusing me. I had said nothing to him. What could I say? That I was sorry for his loss? That was a laugh, as much as I hated Krycek, to see what they had done to him... I wanted vengeance. Vengeance for what they had done. 

The force of my reaction had shocked even me. After all, I hated Krycek. How could I feel so strongly about his arm being hacked off? But nonetheless, I did. 

Of course there was no way that I could find those bastards now. They were more than likely dead anyway. Still, there had to be something that I could do. Anything. 

Mulder could not understand why I had taken Krycek in. At first, he thought I had thrown my lot in with Spender and the rest of those Consortium bastards. Hell, he had even threatened to shoot me. He had waved his gun in my face, his own features contorted with rage. It had taken me quite a while to calm him down, convince him that I hadn't, and even longer to talk him into helping me. 

Finally he agreed to help, I suspected that his own guilt had something to do with it. Oh, he had been reluctant at first, obviously still waiting for the other shoe to drop. To discover that he had been right all along and that I was in cahoots with Spender. 

But gradually Mulder had come to realize that I was not, that all I wanted to do was try and help Krycek, to ease some of my own guilt. Not the noblest of reasons, but what the hell, at least this time I was being honest with myself. 

Months and months of painstaking research had finally led to the information that I had sought for so long. 

There were seven healers still left on Earth, all of them scattered over the different continents. All I had to do was find one of them. He would be able to restore Krycek's arm and perhaps ease my sense of guilt. 

Maybe... 

I leave the balcony now and head back towards my bed, to the figure curled in an S shape under the heavy quilt. He's sound asleep, the gentle snores filling the quiet room. 

Seven healers left, I have to be able to find at least one of them surely. Suddenly an old nursery rhyme pops into my head, The Seventh Magpie, and I smile. 

Seven for a secret, never to be told. 

Is that what I'm looking for, the seventh magpie, the healer that will help me? Help Krycek? Carefully, so as not to wake him, I slide under the quilt. It's no good though, one green eye lazily opens. 

"Hmm, tha' you Walter?" 

"Shhh Alex, go back to sleep." I whisper. 

He cuddles in closer, his face nuzzling sleepily against mine. "Mmm, you're cold, where you been?" 

"I went to get a drink." I reply. "Now go back to sleep." 

Obediently Krycek closes his eyes and is soon fully asleep again. I wrap my arms around him, relaxing in his warmth. 

Krycek does not know of Mulder's and my hunt for an alien healer. I have not told him for fear of disappointing him. Mulder had suggested once that I do tell him, after all Krycek was once privy to all the Consortium's secrets. I had once broached the subject with him but Krycek had shook his head. He was no longer in the loop. He had been out of it for too long. He had not even known that there were healers still left on the planet. 

So Mulder and I continue to search, and I know one day we will find one, and Krycek will have his arm back. After all, I owe him that much... 

Don't I? 

Fini   
  

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